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pewter counter. Beyond the counter, through a partition also of glass and
ornamented with white curtains, another light, and the shadows of two or
three men at table could be vaguely distinguished. This was the place.
I entered. The door on opening rang a bell. At the sound, the door of the
glazed partition which separated the shop from the parlor opened, and
Auguste appeared.
He knew me at once, and came up to me.
"Ah, Sir," said he, "it is you!"
"Do you know what is going on?" I asked him.
"Yes, sir."
This "Yes, sir," uttered with calmness, and even with a certain
embarrassment, told me all. Where I expected an indignant outcry I found
this peaceable answer. It seemed to me that I was speaking to the
Faubourg St. Antoine itself. I understood that all was at an end in this
district, and that we had nothing to expect from it. The people, this
wonderful people, had resigned themselves. Nevertheless, I made an
effort.
"
Louis Bonaparte betrays the Republic," said I, without noticing that I
raised my voice.
He touched my arm, and pointing with his finger to the shadows which were
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